Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery (13 page)

“I promise, on Cam’s head, not to say a word until you say I can.”

“Leave my head out of this,” I said. “It’s been through enough today.”

“We really need to fix your hair, girl,” Randy said, glancing at the white bandage. “They butchered it something awful.”

“Do you want to know what Stephen said or not?” I asked him.

“Tell me.”

“Stephen Showalter knew Susan.”

Randy’s eyes widened. “Do you mean in the Biblical sense?”

“More like the biological sense,” I replied.

“I’m confused.”

“According to Stephen,” Mike said, “Susan Ingram was his mother.”

Randy gasped. “Get the heck out of town! Are you serious?”

“That’s what he says.”

“Did you ask to see the birth certificate?”

Mike and I looked at each other. “Birth certificate. Why didn’t we think of that?” he asked.

“But if the Showalters adopted Stephen as soon as he was born, their names would be on it, not Susan’s, right?”

“Probably.”

“Why not just call his parents and ask them if it’s true?” Randy suggested.

“Maybe you should hire Randy as a deputy,” I said. “He’s full of good ideas tonight.”

Randy looked at his phone. “Well, I’m afraid I’m taking my ideas and going home. I have plans with Nigel later,” he said, standing up. He threw away his container and put the silverware in the sink. “Is there anything you need?”

“We stopped by my place before we came here,” I said. “I have everything I need for now.”

He gently hugged me. “Try to stay out of trouble, please. Do what he tells you to, and get some rest. Oh, before I forget, your agent called again. I really don’t like being your answering service. What do I tell him?”

“Tell him the truth,” Mike said. “She had a minor accident, and will be out of touch for a couple of days.”

“What if he asks me about the meeting with Showalter?”

“You have no idea what happened at the meeting, and he’ll just have to wait to talk to me,” I replied. “What’s the worst he can do?”

“He could show up at my bookstore again,” Randy said, “and I’d rather he not, if it’s all the same to you. Did you know that he’s gay?”

“What?” I said. “Are you sure?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Forget I asked.”

“All right, I’m out of here. Call me if you need anything,” Randy said. He gave me another hug and left.

Mike finished cleaning up, while I sat at the table. “I could get used to this, you know,” I commented.

“Used to what?”

“Being waited on hand and foot.”

He leaned over and looked me in the eye. “I wouldn’t mind having someone wait on me hand and foot once in awhile, either,” he said, giving me a kiss that would have melted butter.

His ringing phone and the doorbell went off at the same time. “I’ll get the phone, if you’ll get the door,” he said.

“Deal.”

I slowly made my way to the front door, grateful that there was only one dim light on. My head was starting to hurt again, and I was ready to lay down for a while. I opened the door, and saw a woman standing on the front porch. She was about my height, long black hair, wearing a pair of skintight leather pants tucked into knee high black boots, and a black leather jacket over a black shirt. I stared at her for a minute. “Officer Reagan?”

“Cam, what a…surprise,” she said. “I thought you were supposed to be recuperating at home.”

“The doctor wanted someone to keep an eye on me just in case something happened,” I told her. “Mike thought I might get more peace and quiet here instead of my house. If I was at home, my mother would be constantly calling or dropping by to check on me.”

“I see,” she said, although it was obvious she didn’t understand.

“Did you need to see Mike about something?”

“Um, well, yes, but it’s not important,” she said. “I can talk to him tomorrow at work.”

“Who’s at the door, Cam?” Mike said from behind me. “Reagan, what are you doing here?”

“The preliminary report from the medical examiner came in after you left, and I thought you’d want to see it,” she said, handing him the folder I hadn’t noticed she had in her hand.

“Come on in, and we can go over it since you’re here,” Mike said.

She glanced at me. “In front of a civilian, sir? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I value Cam’s opinion. Sometimes she offers a different perspective that, as cops, we don’t think about. I’ve learned to have an open mind.”

Reagan frowned, her disapproval clearly evident on her face. “They taught us at the Academy to never involve civilians or family, sir. They can cloud our judgment.”

“They’re right,” Mike agreed. “But this woman saved my life last year. If she hadn’t had the presence of mind to tuck a gun in her waistband under her shirt, three people would have died. I didn’t listen to her until it was almost too late. I don’t plan to make that same mistake again.”

“But she was hurt today, sir,” Reagan pointed out, “because she got involved. I think that should be a good enough reason not to involve her any further in this case.”

“I’ll certainly take that under advisement,” he told her.

“I should probably go. We can discuss the results in the morning. Have a good evening, sir. Nice to see you again, Cam. I hope you feel better soon.” She turned around and left.

“Well, that was awkward,” I said, closing the door. “I don’t think she came here to talk about the case.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you see how she was dressed? If she had bent over, she would have ripped those pants, they were so tight. And I’m pretty sure that was a sleeveless shirt under that jacket. She definitely had more on her mind that work, Mike.”

He pulled me close to him. “Jealous?”

“I’m not, but she is,” I replied, “and if you aren’t careful, you could have a serious problem on your hands.”

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow. For now, I think you should get some rest. Lie down on the couch, and we’ll watch some football.”

“You watch; I’ll listen,” I said, reluctantly pulling away from him. After turning off the lights, and making sure the doors were locked, we sat down on the couch and started watching a college football game. I stretched out, my head resting on his leg, and closed my eyes. “Mike?”

“What?”

“If Lillian saw what happened this morning, we really need to talk to her.”

I heard him sigh.

“She might have seen something last night, too.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Shouldn’t we at least listen to what they have to say?”

“Fine,” he said finally.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Mac said, appearing next to the television.

Chapter 17

Saturday night/Sunday morning

I
opened my eyes. “Uh oh,” I said.

“What’s wrong?” Mike said. “Your head hurting again?”

“No, but you’re about to have a headache. Mac is standing by the TV.”

“What?”

“Well, you said you’d talk to him.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say right now!”

Mac looked annoyed. “Hey, I’m not here to be at your beck and call. If you don’t want my help, that’s fine. I’ll leave.”

“Of course we want your help, don’t we, Mike?” I said, sitting up and looking at him.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where’s Lillian?” I asked Mac. “I thought you were going to bring her with you.”

“He was going to bring
another
ghost here?” Mike said indignantly.

“Oh, tell him to chill,” Mac snapped. “Lillian won’t leave the theatre.”

“Why? I thought she wanted to help?”

“Why what?” Mike asked.

“Because it’s all she’s known for the last few decades,” Mac replied.

“But you can go different places,” I pointed out. “Doesn’t she realize she can do that, too?”

“Do what?” Mike said.

“Yes, she knows, but she still won’t leave.”

“That is so…”

“Stop!” Mike said. “Would you please fill me in on what is going on?”

“Sorry, I forgot you can’t see him. Mac says that Lillian won’t leave the theatre. She knows she can, but she won’t.”

“So what does that mean?”

I looked at Mac, who shrugged. “I guess it means that we’ll have to go to her.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Mac said.

“No, you are not going over there, not tonight,” Mike said, a stubborn look on his face. “You’ve been through enough today.”

“I told you dating a cop was bad,” Mac said, shaking his head. “Always trying to control everything.”

“Well, he does have a point,” I conceded. “My head hurts, and I’d rather stay right here on the couch.”

“You got a little bump on the head. You’re not dying. Get your butt off that couch, and let’s go talk to Lillian. I really think you need to hear what she has to say.”

“A little bump?” I said. “I’ve got stitches in the back of my head. They shaved off some of my hair to put those stitches in. My head is pounding. In fact, could you move away from the TV? Looking at you while you’re standing next to the flickering screen is making my head hurt more. Sit in a chair or something.”

“Are you arguing with him?” Mike whispered in my ear as Mac grumbled his way over to a leather recliner.

“No, I’m not arguing with him,” I snapped. “Just a slight difference of opinion.”

“I’ve had injuries worse than that, and I didn’t lie around when there was something that needed to be done.”

“That’s because there were consequences if you didn’t do what you were told,” I reminded him. “Your boss was probably short tempered, and dealt with insubordinate lackeys by shooting them and burying them in the middle of the Nevada desert.”

“That’s probably the wrong analogy to use,” Mike pointed out, “considering he is dead, and his boss probably did kill him.”

“That cop’s not as dumb as I thought,” Mac said. “He’s right. That was the wrong example to use.”

“I think you’re both missing the point here,” I said, “or at least you are, Mac. Someone tried to beat my brains out today.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t get involved,” Mike said.

“Which is exactly why you should get down to the theatre and talk to Lillian,” Mac said at the same time.

I leaned over and put my head in my hands. “You two are driving me NUTS!”

They both quit talking and looked at me.

“You,” I said, sitting up and pointing at Mac, “go back to Lillian and tell her we’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good choice,” Mike said, a big grin on his face.

“And you,” I said, turning to Mike, “stop gloating.”

“But I really think,” Mac started to say.

“No. That’s enough. Out. Now.”

Mac crossed his arms across his chest and scowled at me. “I suppose talking to her can wait.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” I said sarcastically. “Now get lost.”

He disappeared in a shimmer of blue as I leaned back and sighed.

“Is he gone?” Mike asked.

“Yep.”

“You know, it really sucks to only hear half of these conversations.”

“It’s not that thrilling to hear it all sometimes. Be grateful.”

Thankfully, the rest of the evening was quiet. By morning, the pain in my head was down to a dull throb, although I felt achy all over. Probably a combination of tension, stress, too many ghosts in my life...any number of things, really.

Mike was up before I was, and was fixing breakfast by the time I got out of the shower. I stood in the kitchen doorway, admiring how good he looked in his uniform, and wishing we didn’t have to leave the house. He turned and saw me watching him. “Why are you staring at me?” he asked. “Do I have something on my uniform?”

“No, I was just standing here thinking how good you look in your uniform.”

He came over and wrapped his arms around me. “I do, huh? And what else are you thinking?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I grinned.

“I’m pretty sure I can guess,” he said, giving me a kiss before letting go. “Breakfast is ready, then I’ll drive you home.”

“I thought we were going to the theatre this morning,” I said, sitting down at the table.

“We will later,” he said. He put a plate of eggs over easy, bacon, and toast in front of me. “I took off most of yesterday to be with you. There are things I need to take care of at work. But I promise we’ll go after I get off.”

“But we told Mac we’d be there.”

“But we didn’t say when,” Mike reminded me as he brought his plate over to the table and sat down. “It’s not like your ghosts are going to leave town. Didn’t Mac say that Lillian never leaves the theatre?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then she’ll be there whenever we show up,” he replied. “The best thing for you to do is stay home and get some rest while I’m at work. Then we’ll go after dinner. All right?”

“Okay.”

“Don’t pout, Cam. I got a call this morning from Quincy, and he wants me to come by.”

“I thought you already got his report last night when Officer Reagan brought it by.”

“Just the prelim,” he said. “He told me that they found something odd during the autopsy.”

“Did he mention anything specific?”

“Nope, and even if he did, I wouldn’t tell you,” he replied, finishing off his bacon. “Finish up. I need to be at his office in thirty minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mike pulled into my driveway. I was surprised to see Randy leaning against the back of his car. “What’s he doing here?”

“I have no idea.”

I didn’t believe him for a minute. “Tell me you did NOT call him to stay with me today.”

“I might have mentioned…”

“Mike, I don’t need a babysitter,” I protested.

“He’s here in case something happens. If your head starts hurting, or you start throwing up, he’ll be here to take you to the doctor,” he told me as his phone rang. “Penhall.” He got a serious look on his face as he listen to the person on the other end of the call. “I’ll be there in twenty. Have you called Quincy yet? Good. All right, I’m on my way.”

“Problem?” I asked him.

“Can’t talk about it. I’ve got to go.”

“Be careful, Mike.”

“I will. You, too. Take it easy today.”

I leaned over and gave him a kiss before I got out of the truck. He waved as he drove off.

“Well, Warden, what are the plans for the day?” I said.

“I need to go over the inventory lists,” he said as I unlocked the door. “Your mother said she was going to stop by later to see how you’re doing.”

“Sounds exciting,” I replied, tossing my bag into the loveseat.

“I think the first thing we need to do is fix your hair,” he said.

“I can’t exactly wash my hair right now.”

“We can work around that.” Randy pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Mandy? Randy. We have a hair emergency. Are you available? Are you sure? Great, see you then.”

“Who’s Mandy?”

“An old friend of mine. She just started working at the Sassy Curl, that new place near Big Lots. Grab your bag.”

“Right now?”

“That’s what she said.”

A short time later, Randy pulled up in front of the Sassy Curl and parked. “I hope she doesn’t mind seeing me in sweats and a T-shirt,” I told him as we got out.

“I’m sure your mother would be shocked to see you wearing that in public.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not the one who feels achy all over.”

“Have you taken anything?”

“Just Tylenol. The aches and pains started this morning.”

“Well, after we’re done this morning, you can go home and take something for the pain.”

We walked inside, and I felt like I had just stepped inside a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. The walls were painted a dark pink, the chairs were light pink, and the capes were a medium pink. “Oh my…”

“Isn’t it great?” a young woman said. “It reminds me of cotton candy.”

“It reminds me of vomit,” I muttered to Randy.

“Hush,” he whispered back. “Mandy! It’s so good to see you! I love what you’ve done with your hair.”

I took a good look at her hair and almost ran from the building. It was neon pink. I mean like able to see it in the dark pink. She wore black pants, a white T-shirt, and pink Keds. If she even tried to put anything pink in my hair, there would be a mutiny.

She looked me over. “Is this your emergency, Randy? She looks more like a fashion emergency. Doesn’t she know it’s not cool to wear sweats in public?”

“I thought you were going to work on being less critical of people,” Randy replied.

“Oops, you’re right. Sorry about that. It just slipped out. So what’s the problem?”

Randy made a twirling motion with his hand, and I turned around so she could see the back of my head.

“Damn, what happened here?” Mandy exclaimed, moving closer and touching my hair. “What’s behind the bandage?”

“Eight stitches,” I told her.

“Ouch,” she said. “So they had to shave your hair to put the stitches in? Hm, not a very neat job, but I think I can work with it.” She led me over to a chair, and put one of those hideous pink capes around my neck after I sat down.

“I appreciate you doing this on short notice,” I told her as she pulled out some scissors, combs and hair clips.

“You’re welcome. My first regular doesn’t come in for an hour.”

“Work gently, Mandy,” Randy said. “She’s got a bit of a headache.”

“My goodness! How did this happen?”

“I fell,” I said, not wanting to go into all the details.

“After you were beaned in the back of the head,” Randy scoffed.

“Someone hit you?” Mandy gasped. “Was it a no good boyfriend?”

Randy laughed. “Her boyfriend is the police chief.”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t a woman beater.”

“He didn’t do it,” I said.

“So who did?”

I shook my head at Randy, but he ignored me. “They don’t know. It happened behind the theatre.”

“You mean where that poor woman was murdered the other night?”

“We were there when it happened,” Randy told her.

“Get the heck out of here!” Mandy said.

She kept looking at Randy as she cut my hair, and I was starting to get worried.

“It’s true,” he said. “It was ghastly.”

“It was not,” I said. “Don’t exaggerate.”

“So how did she die?”

“The police aren’t sure yet,” I said, cutting Randy off before he could give away anything. “They’re still investigating.”

“You’re dating the police chief,” Mandy said. “Surely he’s told you everything.”

“He hasn’t told me anything.”

“But we’re going to help him investigate,” Randy said, “and I’m sure Cam will solve this case like she did the one last year.”

The man had a serious case of motormouthitis today.

“What case?” Mandy asked.

“The Ashton murders.”

“You mean those old murders that happened at that creepy old house on the outskirts of town? That was you?”

“Yes, it was,” Randy said proudly.

I rolled my eyes and groaned.

“You know, Susan Ingram was in here on Friday,” Mandy said.

I didn’t believe for one minute that Susan stepped into a place like this.

“She was here?” Randy said. “I don’t believe it.”